My first time was surreal
as we were on a stone bench (it was reminiscent of the slab where Frankenstein's Monster came to life), right next to a war memorial, and right in front of a pond full of perverted ducks who just watched and quacked occasionally. Also, it was 2 o'clock in the morning in April and freezing cold. And I was completely tanked on vodka.

He gave up in a mood because I kept laughing at the ducks, then laughed even harder when we nearly fell arse over tit into the pond. I never saw him again - but on the plus side, I inherited the quite lovely dress I'd borrowed off my sister for the night. She still can't look at it, nearly four years later.
(sporks, Mon 7 Mar 2005, 12:55, Reply)